


ruining my pretending

by stanlons



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff, its modern day cause i need modern stanlon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 08:52:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanlons/pseuds/stanlons
Summary: The Losers take a day at the park, where Stan and Mike have a day that turns into one of the best ones of their lives.





	ruining my pretending

In Derry, there was only one park, and it was called Gilsbury Gardens. Its forests spanned from the north side of town all the way to the barrens, but most people considered the park to be the trails and picnic tables that took up just over a square mile. The day was bright, with the sun high in the sky, and the birds singing their own songs among themselves. Ben and Beverly decided it was the perfect day for a friend picnic, so all of the Losers went there together. 

The events of the summer two years before had been nowhere near forgotten, but everyone had made their own coping mechanisms to help them deal with the PTSD. Mike picked up painting, Stan started singing, Beverly joined a Roller Derby team, Richie played guitar, Eddie read books, Bill made architecture sculptures and Ben still studied true crime (just not pertaining to Derry). They all loved to show off their new talents to each other, especially now, as Beverly Marsh skated her way down the streets while the rest of them stuck to their bikes. Mike brought his sketchbook, Richie brought his guitar, and Eddie brought a copy of  _A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,_ tucked under his arm. Stan of course, brought his voice, but the boy was the only one of the Losers that never really showed off, becoming quite embarrassed when doing so. Stan never dropped his love for bird though, and Mike found a new admiration for astronomy. 

On that particular day, the park was mostly empty for some reason, and they had no problem finding a picnic table underneath the trees. "That cloud looks like a dick," Richie blurts, making Eddie slap his shoulder in a scolding manner. Stanley rolls his eyes as he glances up in the sky, seeing a bird that he loved, and taking a picture of it with his camera. His slender fingers press the button multiple times, making small shutter noises that catch Mike's attention. 

"What kind was it?" Mike asks him, taking out his sketchbook and placing it on his lap. Next, he pulls out a pencil, eraser and a sharpener, crossing his overall clad legs and looking over at Stan. The curly haired boy looks over at him like a deer in headlights, now used to people paying attention to his actions. 

"Uh, it was a wood thrush." Mike nods, opening up the sketchbook in his lap and flipping through the pages. Stan has to stop his mind but he's already staring, thinking to himself that the boy has nice hands, nice arms, and a nice face. The young Uris thought a lot of thoughts he probably shouldn't nowadays, all of them connecting to how much he wanted to kiss Mike Hanlon. 

The relationship between the two became complicated, with Mike's unapologetic flirting and Stan's habit of getting majorly flustered. There wasn't an instant where he saw Mike and his face didn't flush, because the liking he had was pushed far over the boundaries of  _friends_. At least, he thought. But, not wanting to ruin a good friendship, Stan shut his mouth anytime he wanted to tell Mike, convincing himself Mike liked someone else, someone better, and that they would always be just friends. 

Mike's sketchbook was littered with sketches of Stanley, so many that it looked like a dedication to his favorite boy. Sometimes it felt like that to him too, and today was no exception. Stan looked uniquely handsome in his eyes today, wearing a knitted sweater and leaving his hair to frame his face, untouched. The trees had begun to shed their leaves, red and orange littering the ground of Gilsbury Gardens in a beautiful sunset, serving as the perfect background against him. 

The Losers were, for once, happy in their own ways. Eddie found a home in Richie, the two boys would do everything together, becoming each others person. Everyone knew that one was going to happen. Bill used to have a crush on Stan, that he had long since gotten over, thankfully. Ben and Beverly were eight months strong with each other. Bill was finally over Georgie's death, and got himself a boyfriend named Franklin who went to their school. And Stan and Mike were stuck in a limbo, somewhere between the stages of platonic love and romantic infatuation. 

There were moments where Stan would get sad, too, like when he thought about Neibolt and the scars on the sides of his face. But then he thought about how Mike hugged him that day, never letting him go, and how in the months over Mike became overprotective of the nerve driven boy, especially in front of his Rabbi father. Donald Uris was undecided on Mike, being that he wasn't Jewish and he was a farmers boy. But his well mannered personality and kind nature earned him brownie points in the Uris family, especially after Stanley's outburst at his bar mitzvah that year. 

The pencil shadowed in his scars, sculpting the boys face into a masterpiece on paper. Mike was in his own definition of tranquility, for once thoughts quiet as he sat among the nature. Richie plucked out the chords to a Weezer song, much to Eddie's dismay, who was trying to read a foot away from him. "Babe, we get it, you know the chords to El Scorcho! Cut it out!" Eddie says, making Richie play louder, and Mike laugh at them. It was a weekly occurrence: Richie would learn a new song and annoy everyone with how well he knew it. Last week it was Hips Don't Lie, amazing as it sounds. 

"Whatcha drawing?" Stan says softly, leaning over to see Mike's sketchbook. He's sitting on a blanket, sure not to get his jeans dirty, and rubs his hands against the soft fabric over and over again until they become numb. Mike snaps it closed, eyes widening at the close proximity they're at. 

"Nothing," Mike sighs, putting the sketchbook under his leg, making Stan roll his eyes. One by one, the Losers begin to leave, until its just Stan and Mike underneath the darkening sky. The small clearing lets them see out into the cosmos, his breaths becoming spaced in the silent air. The ground was cold beneath him, but all he did was sit there and admire the stars.

"Blanket," Stan demanded, moving over so that Mike had room to sit there with him. But once Mike was on, it was evident that they were very, very close. Although he tried to ignore it, his skin burned at their knees pressing together, and their fingers bumping awkwardly. His eyes search in the sky to connect constellations together, desperately wanting to pour all of his knowledge out into the open air. 

His hands press against his thighs, one raising to point in the air. "That's  _cassiopeia_ ," Mike says, and Stan searches for what he's talking about. Soon, he pressed their heads together so that he can guide Stans finger to the right star, both of their cheeks turning red at the contact. Pulling back, Mike turns his body to look at his best friend. 

"It's beautiful." Their eyes connect in a comic disarray, both of them not wanting to look away. Their feelings were so strong in that moment, and Mike's heart began to race in his chest, almost jumping out as Stan licked his lips. They were coated in cherry chapstick, his favorite flavor, and the first thing that popped into his mind was  _what if he kisses me and is repulsed by my choice of flavor?_ It was an irrational thought, sure, but Stan was anything but rational in recent comings. 

Mike bites his cheek, and in a split second decision, brings their lips together. Stan forgets to breathe, forgets to do anything, and he is sitting with his eyes closed, starstruck. Mike felt so... warm. It felt right. Leaning back, the Hanlon boy searches for the sight of disappointment in Stan's eyes, but instead finding pure bliss. "You know," Mike starts, fiddling with his hands for a moment. "When stars come together from the dust it's, uh, it's called accretion. Wanna start something new?"

"How long have you been keeping that in, Hanlon?" Stan teases, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear as a nervous habit. This time he doesn't stop himself from admiring Mike, taking in his golden skin and perfected hair in the moonlight. This time, he presses a hand to his cheek and pecks his lips, whispering his answer. "Yes." 


End file.
